


Home

by FemslashTrash13



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Christmas Presents, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 04:47:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9055981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FemslashTrash13/pseuds/FemslashTrash13
Summary: Adrien overhears Marinette and Alya complaining about the size of women's pockets, and decidespite to get her a special present. When he goes to deliver it, cuteness ensues.





	

Adrien cursed his father for the thousandth time as he tossed the third ruined dress to the floor beside him. For all the time the model had been shoved into the fashion scene, been in the midst of all stages of the process, he had somehow never learned past basic, fumbling stitching. Of course, he had never needed to know much more before now, but it was frustrating to no end. He hadn't thought it would be that complicated, but three dresses, a box of Band-Aids, and an hour of YouTube later, he was still no closer to having passable pockets.

 

“Well, you're showing improvement,” quipped Plagg from his perch on the desk. “They're not sewn shut, and they don't have a gaping hole at the end, so at this rate it'll only take about 30 dresses to get it right.”

 

His charge gritted something resembling shut up through needle-laden teeth, face bunched in concentration. 

 

“I still don't understand why this dress has to have pockets. The girl loves fashion, right? I'm pretty sure a yet-to-be-released dress from one of the giants of Paris fashion would be more than enough.”

 

“Her name is Marinette,” Adrien said as he struggled to get the fabric to feed into the machine, “And it would be more than good enough if this were a normal present, but she handmade me a scarf, Plagg, and then didn't tell me because she knew that it would crush me to know it wasn't from my father.”

 

He had caught the mistake about a month after the bowler hat competition. He had just been going to hang the scarf when the unique stitching along the seam caught his eye. He may be clueless sometimes, but something so glaring couldn't not be figured out. He had texted Alya just to confirm, and to ask why she hadn't corrected him.

 

So when he overheard the two girls’ conversation about pockets in female fashion, he knew exactly what to get her for Noël.

 

It took two breakdowns for Nathalie to interfere. She started at the commotion before her, the fist banging on the desk getting dangerously close to the sewing machine in front of the red faced boy sitting there. “Alright,” she called, scooping the discarded dresses into her arms. “Before you ruin another two hundred dollar dress, why don't you let me help?”

 

Wide green eyes turned to face her. “You… you can sew?”

 

“How else do you think I got a job working for a fashion mogul,” she laughed. “Even as an assistant, I have to know what your father wants, sometimes before he knows he wants it himself. That means an insight into the fashion process a normal person wouldn't possess.” The bed beside him creaked under the older woman's weight. “So tell me, what are we trying to do here?”

 

♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧

 

A warm, rich aroma flowed from the bakery doors, even closed. The bright wrapping paper crinkled in his grip as he drew freezing air into his lungs. Even with Nathalie’s help, the project hadn't turned out perfectly, but it wasn't half bad for a first timer (even if it had taken a few tries to get there).

 

A bright jingle rang through the shop, prompting a head of dark hair to pop up from behind the counter.

 

“Bienvenue et merci, what can I get for yo- oh ahh Adrien hi I didn't realize- what are you- I mean, what, what can I do, uh get for you?”

 

Light, beautiful macarons drew his eye, then cherry tarts, and those layer cakes looked delicious, too, but…

 

“I didn't actually come to buy anything, I just wanted to give this to you,” He blurted, thrusting the package towards her at arm's length as warmth flooded his cheeks.

 

Marinette stood, slack jawed, completely taken aback by the beautiful boy in front of her. A shaking hand plucked the present from him, metallic pink wrapping paper wrinkling against her chest.

 

Sabine walked out of the kitchen, the buttery vanilla smell drawing the attention of the teens before her words did. “Oh, Marinette, you didn't tell me you were expecting a friend! Adrien, would you like to come upstairs for cookie decorating? I was just coming to sneak my Nette a taste before we started, would you like one as well?”

 

A soft moan escaped his lips as the fresh out of the oven treat melted in his mouth, a rare occurrence with his model diet. It wasn't as strict as some of the older models’, because his youth granted him a fast metabolism, but sugar cookies? Pretty much never.

 

He gobbled down the rest of the cookie with another moan at the hints of cinnamon hidden within the sweet, fluffy cookie.

 

“W-would you like to decorate with us,” Marinette asked, hiding a giggle at the crumbs covering his face.

 

He liked to Sabine, then back to Mari, taking a step toward his classmate. “I don't want to intrude…”

 

A warm hand patted his shoulder as Sabine passed him to mount the stairs. “It would be nothing of the sort. Please, come up, we love company.”

 

Upstairs, Christmas parsed every possible surface. Garlands and tinsel covered the wall, towels with poinsettias hung on the oven, real poinsettias sat on the counter, and a large, lovingly decorated tree took up most of the living room. Tom Dupain-Cheng emerged, covered in flecks of frosting in every color imaginable, his dyed teeth showing as he smiled at Adrien. The four of them spread throughout the kitchen, each with about 20 cookies in their care.

 

Adrien watched as Mari got to work, first agonizing over her color choice, her tongue poking out the side of her mouth as she drew what looked like an intricate lace design.

 

When he looked up yet again 20 minutes later, pink frosting dabbed her forehead, and a green streak adorned her hair, as well as dots of blue, red, and pure across her face and clothes. Without thinking, he dipped a finger in the gold in front of him and placed a dollop on her scrunched nose. She gasped as she looked at him first with disbelief, then mischief, and attacked in flurry of sweet, fluffy ammo.

 

♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧

 

Freshly washed faces blushed as the teens settled into the couch to open their gifts to each other, but truly, Adrien’s mind was too preoccupied by the way the blush brought out her freckles to worry about either the present in his lap or the red staining his own cheeks. 

 

Paper flew as it was gleefully torn into, revealing a beautiful dress. Pale, delicate layers wrapped around the front to hang from the waist, lace climbing the sweetheart under bodice to form a halter collar, the back a deep v of lace to the waistline.

 

A squeal pealed through the air as Mari twirled, hugging the the creation to her body.

 

“An Agreste Spring/Summer dress?!? Adrien, you shouldn't have!!” She pulled it away from her again, fully taking it in, and messily hidden stitching drew her attention. “Custom pockets?? How did you know I love clothes with pockets!” She nearly tackled him in a hug in her glee, hastily backing off when he groaned from the sudden weight.

 

His own gift was ripped into with the pause, polka dots being the first thing his brain registered, the second the wonderfully soft fabric. Cashmere? Yes, it had to be. He slipped it on as soon as he realized, snorts coming from all around as they took in his full ugly sweater-ed glory. Green and black dots of all sizes were scattered on each sleeve, and lines of adorable illustrations broken by lovely swirls adorned the front. 

 

He petted his new new sweater with a slack jaw, green eyes wide, babbling compliments to an entirely red Marinette.

 

A loud beep interrupted his ramblings, informing him it was time to go home, and two faces fell immediately.

 

“I guess I'll walk you out..” Mari mumbled, gently setting her new dress on the couch and gesturing to the door. Her crush reluctantly followed to the back stairwell, pausing at the door to say goodbye, eyes travelling up to search for the words to express how grateful he was.

 

“I had a great time today.. we should do it again someti- is that?”

 

Marinette followed his gaze to the bundle of leaves and white berries over the door, quickly turning redder than his sweater, hand still on the doorknob.

 

They stumbled over words, sparks flying when hands touched in the fumble for the door, thanks forgotten in light of the awkward atmosphere. Adrien took a few steps out the door, turning at a feminine voice calling his name. She ran out to meet him, rising onto tiptoe with a shuddering breath to press a kiss to his cheek.

 

Blue eyes met green as Mari whispered, “Thank you,” and ran back into the building. All the way back to his house, he found himself sinking into the sweater, soaking in the sweet smells resting there. A blend of cinnamon, flour, chocolate, and a hint of orange, it smelled like home.


End file.
